


That one teen movie cliche, once more with feeling

by Milieu



Category: Bandom, Black Veil Brides, Falling in Reverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Humor, M/M, School Dances, Underage Substance Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milieu/pseuds/Milieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy is a terrible dancer, Ronnie doesn't even want to be here, and the punch is most likely spiked. All in all, a successful school dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That one teen movie cliche, once more with feeling

Ronnie hadn't even wanted to come to the Fall Fling, or whatever it was called. The fact that he couldn't even remember the official title of the dance was proof enough of that (he'd made a point of letting people know that he wasn't interested in going to prom later in the school year either), but somehow he was still here. "Somehow" of course meaning that Andy had begged and pleaded and "But  _Ronnieeee_ "-d him until he had no choice but to either throttle Andy or give in. So here he was, sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair against the wall of a too-hot gymnasium, watching as Andy and the rest of their classmates made fools of themselves on the makeshift dance floor.

("Do you have a better idea of how to spend Friday night?"

"About a thousand of them, yeah."

"But  _Ronnieeee_ -")

Also he was pretty sure by now that someone had spiked the punch, if the way some people were flailing around out there was any indication. Andy himself was about as much of a disaster as Ronnie had expected, long limbs flying everywhere and most likely posing some serious danger to everyone around him. Come to think of it, Andy had had a few cups of punch as well by now. That didn't completely excuse how bad his dancing was, though.

Ronnie just fanned himself with a napkin and checked his phone to see how much longer he had to endure (no one should ever have to be exposed to this much dubstep, ever). He could probably get away with dragging Andy out of there by 11:30 under the guise of wanting to beat traffic. Maybe if he got really lucky Andy would tire himself out and want to leave sooner, but luck had never done much for Ronnie and he doubted that it would start now, when he was already in the lion's den. He was distracted enough by his phone that he didn't even notice Andy barreling towards him until Andy stumbled and practically ended up splayed across Ronnie's lap. 

"What the f-"

"Ronnie, come dance." He could smell Andy's breath when he was this close and yep, that punch was definitely spiked. How much of that had Andy had again? And weren't these kinds of events supposed to have chaperons to prevent this exact thing from happening, anyway?

"No." He tried to push Andy off of him and into a standing position, which was easier said than done what with Andy being both taller and more than a little tipsy at the moment.

"But it'sh fun," Andy insisted, words slurring. He tried to pull Ronnie up out of the chair, which Ronnie relented to just to stop Andy hovering over him.

"I don't want to dance."

"But Ronnie-"

" _No._ "

"But  _Ronnieeee_ -"

"Ugh,  _fine_." Ronnie growled in exasperation as Andy dragged him by the arm to the dance floor.

As it turned out, he wasn't dancing so much as keeping Andy from falling over as he started to really feel the effects of whatever he'd drank. This mostly consisted of keeping one hand looped into Andy's belt and physically hauling him up whenever he started to tip, and ducking whenever one of Andy's arms came too close to his face. A few bystanders weren't so on the ball with the ducking thing, and Ronnie would be the first to admit that he got a perverse kind of glee out of it whenever Andy backhanded someone by accident. It  _almost_ made up for the fact that he had to be here in the first place.

After what felt like an eternity of trance remixes, the music finally began to wind down and people started to filter off of the floor. Ronnie attempted to follow suit, only for Andy to pull him back by the arm.

"Now what?"

"Ish not over, Ronnie." Andy slurred the 'r' sound of his name, swaying.

"The music's stopping and you can't stand up straight. It's over."

"They've got-" Andy hiccuped. "They gotta play the lasht slow song firsht."

"So? Neither of us have dates to do a slow dance with." Ronnie tried again to pull Andy away before they got stuck in a sea of couples.

"But  _Ronnieeee-_ " Andy clumsily closed the distance between them. He really was having a hard time staying upright and collided with Ronnie's chest, winding his arms around Ronnie's torso before he could react. Ronnie grunted and grabbed him by the waist to hold him up, sputtering when he got a mouthful of Andy's hair.

"You've got to be shitting me." Ronnie glanced around to try and figure out where he'd been sitting, but by then they were boxed in by couples on all sides. Andy was being supremely unhelpful; his head was lolling on Ronnie's shoulder and Ronnie might have thought that he'd actually passed out if not for the grip Andy still had on him. He pretty much had no choice but to stand there and follow Andy's swaying back and forth to keep the both of them from toppling over. At least it gave him plenty of time to question all of his life choices.

Andy was humming in his ear and had managed to tangle one of his hands in Ronnie's hair, and honestly the most bizarre part of it all was that Ronnie didn't really mind. He certainly minded the fact that Andy was drunk as hell and that he was having to support the entirety of Andy's dead weight, and the music was still godawful and it was still way too damn hot in this gym, but the actual slow-dancing bit was okay. Insofar as the two of them could be said to actually be dancing, at any rate.

When the last song finally,  _finally_ ended and they managed to get outside, it was raining. Ronnie didn't even care, because at least he was no longer getting cooked alive while pressed up against a dozen other sweaty bodies. Finding the car was a chore because Andy kept slipping and nearly pulling Ronnie down with him, and they were both soaked through by the time they located it. Ronnie rummaged in his pockets for the keys, Andy leaning unsteadily on his arm.

"Thanksh for coming, Ronnie," Andy slurred in his ear.

Ronnie shrugged him off so that he could get the keys out of his pocket. "You could've brought a friend who actually likes to go to these things, you know."

"Yeah, but I jus-" Andy cut himself off to cling to Ronnie's arm for support as he moved to unlock the door. "I wanted t'go with you."

When Ronnie turned to try and help Andy into the passenger seat, Andy kissed him. And fuck it all, Andy was a  _good_ kisser, even when drunk on mystery punch. His mouth was hot and his hands were tangled in Ronnie's hair again, and Ronnie didn't even fucking care that the rain was getting all inside the car. There might have been some tongue involved, Ronnie was too dazed when Andy finally pulled away to really deduce what had just happened.

It was hard to disentangle himself from Andy and actually get him into the car, both physically and because the majority of Ronnie's body was telling him to get very close again, right this minute. They managed, somehow, and Ronnie was proud to say that he considered pulling Andy into the back seat only briefly before starting the car and heading for home.

The downside, of course, was that now he  _had_ to go to prom so that he could see Andy like this again.


End file.
